


Unexpected developments

by stopwatch_plz (immiscibility)



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: FrostIron - Freeform, M/M, but it made me laugh, this is just crazy fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-28
Updated: 2014-06-12
Packaged: 2018-01-10 08:49:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1157615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/immiscibility/pseuds/stopwatch_plz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony starts losing things, and Loki starts acting strangely (well, even more strangely than usual...)</p><p>These fics are all self-contained but in the same 'verse</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was written from a prompt from the S.S FrostIron tumblr comm:
> 
> "I have a sudden, nearly-debilitating yearning for a fluffy, nesting!Loki Frostiron fic. Maybe it’s a Jotun thing, or a demi-god thing, who knows. But I want him nicking Tony’s clothes to stow away because they smell like him, suddenly demanding tons of fluffy pillows be added to the bed… And Tony’s completely baffled by the whole thing.
> 
> Loki’s either flustered/defensive about the whole thing, or all like “whatever motherfucker, my nest is glorious.”"
> 
> Sorry everyone :-D

The first time it happened, Tony didn’t think much of it. He often misplaced unimportant things around the house, and to Tony anything that wasn’t to do with his tech toys was unimportant - including clothing.

 

“You look like you’re thinking hard,” Loki said with amusement as Tony joined him in the kitchen and set about pouring coffee into what was less a mug and more a small vat.

 

“Thanks. Love you too,” he grunted as he took a long gulp of the coffee and winced as it burned on the way down. “It’s nothing much just... I can’t find one of my favourite t-shirts,” he frowned, realising that actually it was something much. He really liked that one, although he’d never be seen wearing it in public. He was partly convinced the only thing holding it together was his love for it.

 

“Oh, umm...” Loki started, and Tony looked up just in time to see something that looked strangely like embarrassment on the god’s face, but it was gone in a split second into something more neutral before he spoke again. “It’s probably somewhere on the floor in your room. Like everything else,” he said with a sniff as he turned and made his way to the lounge.

 

_Weird_ , Tony thought. Though he was probably right about it being on the floor.

 

...

 

A few days later, he really started to question his memory.

 

“Hey Loki? Have you seen my pinstripe waistcoat?” he shouted into the bathroom from the walk-in wardrobe in the room. “You know, the one you like?” There was a pause, and Tony started wondering if he’d been heard and was about to shout again when Loki replied.

 

“Why should I know?” the god shouted back, his voice tight and clipped, as if angry. Tony frowned, trying to think of anything he’d done in the last few hours that could be considered annoying but came up empty. He gave a small shrug then carried on looking. Damn, he really wanted to find it - he knew it fitted him like a second skin and looked good, and he needed to make an impression at the event that evening. After another ten minutes of looking, Tony sighed with resignation and decided to go for the second choice outfit, eschewing another waistcoat in place of a smart-casual top and jacket which he took out and hung on the wardrobe for later on.

 

He really wanted to find that waistcoat.

 

...

 

A few days later he discovered missing socks. Not just any socks, but the matching ones for _two_ of his days-of-the-week socks, which was really frustrating. Now he couldn’t wear Monday and Thursday, which put him in a bad mood for the rest of the day.

 

...

 

By the end of the first week, Tony had lost two t-shirts, a waistcoat, three (odd) socks (he discovered another missing one two days after the first ones). a cushion from the living area, the comforter he and Loki used when watching movies late at night and a handmade scaled-down Iron Man plushie that a rather enthusiastic fan has sent him in the mail (it even had an arc reactor that glowed when you pushed it - though Tony had almost worn the battery out from playing with it too much).

 

Tony had also, after a few days of things doing a disappearing act, noticed an obvious change in Loki’s behavior. While the god could never be described as an honest, upstanding person, his manner had become even more secretive and nervous, visibly flinching when Tony surprised him. He had also been spending more nights alone than not, which wasn’t a problem in an of itself - he wouldn’t force anyone to do anything they didn’t want to - it did make him curious, especially as Loki was spending more time apart from him than usual. And when something makes Tony Stark curious, he doesn’t let it go easily - which is how he found himself creeping down his own corridors feeling like a kid sneaking back home after staying out late.

 

Of course, Loki was allowed his own space, as was he, but Tony told himself that this was an emergency - what if Loki was ill? It would be amiss of him not to show concern - at least that was what he was trying to convince himself of, and not that he was just really nosy. 

 

He approached the door cautiously, for some reason, and for a moment considered just barging in unannounced then stopped to think how he would react if the tables were turned and instead knocked gently.

 

“Loki?”

 

There was no reply, so he knocked harder.

 

“Loki, umm... are you ok?”

 

After a brief pause, there was the sound of movement and a voice spoke up. “Go away!” Loki’s voice was muffled, and by more than the door - it sounded as though he were speaking through layers of material.

 

Tony frowned. “I’m not going to go away until I know you’re alright,” he replied, his hand already on the door handle.

 

“Leave me alone!” came the muffled response, and it sounded rather petulant.

 

“No can do, Loki,” Tony said and, happy that he’d at least announced his presence, he opened the door and stepped into the room - and stopped in his tracks.

 

All the lights were out other than one dim lamp at the far end of the room. In fact, most of the room’s items were at the far end, and where there had once been a rather elegant writing desk with matching chair and chaise longue was what looked rather looked like a tent, consisting of the bedsheets and - yes, there it was - the comforter from the living room, held up with various items of furniture from the room and around the tower.

 

It looked like someone had broken into the room and set up camp inside.

 

“Loki?”

 

“Go away,” came the quiet voice again, this time not as confident, and Tony made his way slowly across the room to the makeshift structure and bent down to lift up the corner of the comforter to peer inside. In the gloom he could make out Loki’s small frame, huddled in a corner, wearing the waistcoat that had gone missing on top of the t-shirt that had gone the same way. Two glowing green eyes stared at him through the darkness, fever-bright and not quite normal. Or normal for Loki, anyway.

 

“Umm, can I come in?” Tony asked, feeling slightly ridiculous even as he spoke, but there was obviously something not right going on and he didn’t want to provoke any kind of reaction that might involve injury or damage to himself.

 

Loki stared at him then nodded silently drawing another t-shirt up around him like a security blanket, and Tony crawled into the glorified pillow fort on all fours, getting as close as he was allowed, which was actually further than he thought he would get as he finally sat down almost next to the rather pathetic-looking god. There was no other way to describe it - Loki looked sad.

 

“Hey,” Tony started, then realised he had no idea what to say next. Smooth.

 

“Hey,” Loki replied, peering over the t-shirt like a curious but wary animal.

 

“You ok?” There was a brief pause before he got an answer.

 

“I don’t know,” came the reply, and it was almost heartbreaking to hear the usually proud god acting like a scared child, and Tony couldn’t help but lean into Loki and rest his head on the god’s shoulder.

 

“You wanna talk about it?” he asked, gently, starting to get genuinely concerned about what was going on in that crazy mind. Loki swallowed dryly and licked his lips hesitantly before speaking.

 

“I think... I think I’m making a nest.” The last few words came out so quickly that it took a while for Tony’s brain to process and comprehend, then his eyebrows shot up to the ceiling.

 

“A... nest?” Tony tried and failed to keep the disbelief from his voice. “Like, a _nest_ nest?” Suddenly his brow creased. “You’re not going to lay an egg or something, are you?” Loki shot him a withering look which was much more like the normal Loki, and he grinned. “OK, alien biology 101 passed - neither Asgardians nor frost giants lay eggs. So then...” he let the sentence trail off mainly because, for once in his life, he was pretty damn speechless.

 

“I don’t know,” Loki said, still slightly pathetic but with some of his usual demeanour returned. “I just... had these... _urges_!” He waved his hand to indicate everything around them, and Tony sighed.

 

“What are we going to do with you?” he said, not unkindly and Loki pouted.

 

“I don’t know, “ he said again, looking dejected.

 

“Well, You can’t make a nest on your own, can you?” Tony said suddenly, and Loki looked over at him, half-wary and half-hopeful. “Let’s move all this stuff into my room and we can take it from there, OK?”

 

...

 

Three hours later and Tony was regretting his offer immensely.

 

“No, Tony - they can’t go there! It doesn’t give enough protection! The pillows need to go here -” Loki made a grand sweeping gesture from where he was sitting in the middle of the bed dressed in another of Tony’s old t-shirts and a pair of his running pants, “and that blanket has to come here!” The god made impatient grabbing motions with his hands, and Tony sighed as he threw the cover onto the bed and watched as the alien god that threatened to take over the world wrapped himself up in a fluffy comforter so that only his face was peering out, a look of intense satisfaction on his face.

 

“Is that it?” Tony asked with a slight scowl. They’d been at it for so long that his bed was barely recognisable, covered as it was with pretty much every soft furnishing in the place. He saw Loki look around and then turn back to him, a grin on his face that happily looked much more like the Loki he knew.

 

“There is one more thing I need,” he said, and Tony almost had a tantrum himself until his brain registered the tone of voice.

 

“Oh,” was all he said, then he grinned back as he kicked off his shoes and pulled off his t-shirt in one smooth motion and crawled onto the bed on all fours towards the very definitely insane alien god currently occupying it.

 

“Well, of course - you can’t make a nest on your own, after all.”

  
  
  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony thought things has gotten as weird as they could get.
> 
> Tony thought wrong.

After a few days things started to settle down. Loki had managed to curb his kleptomaniac ways, and Tony was glad to discover that all clothing and soft furnishings were still accounted for. They had started to get back into some kind of routine, and the tension of the previous days was fading. 

That morning, Tony woke to find himself alone in bed - other than the myriad of pillows that had been heaped onto it the night before, of course - and he frowned. Sliding a hand to the other side of the bed he noted that the space next to him was still slightly warm from Loki’s earlier presence and he sat up, running a hand through his unruly hair and swallowing a yawn he listened to see if there was any sign of life in the ensuite bathroom. Hearing no sign of life, he frowned.

“JARVIS - location of Loki?”

“Mr Laufeyson is currently in the kitchen.”

Tony scowled and swung his legs off the side of the bed and pulled on a pair of sweatpants that had been discarded on the floor the previous night. Standing up, he stretched and yawned loudly then set off towards the kitchen.

“Uh, Sir?”

Tony stopped mid-stride, a look of wary concern on his face. “Yes, JARVIS?”

“I think it would be wise to inform you that Mr Laufeyson is currently acting... rather odd.”

“Odd?”

“I think it’s best that you see for yourself..”

Tony scowled as he strode out the room, making his way down the corridor at a faster pace than usual. As he reached the kitchen he heard Loki’s voice drift out, a mixture of English and a language he didn’t recognise - though what he did recognise was that the god was angry. Very angry. Taking a deep breath, Tony steeled himself for what was coming as he stepped into the kitchen. “Morning Lo- what??!”

The kitchen looked like the set of a disaster movie - dirty plates and bowls piled up on the counter, half-empty jars strewn haphazardly around the room and, in the middle of it, one hunched-over demigod, his back to the door. Loki had what looked like flour in his hair, a stain of something down the front of the t-shirt he was wearing - one of his, Tony thought with a smile somewhere in the back of his brain, behind the sheer horror at the state of his kitchen.

Loki looked up, a look of frustration and anger on his face. “Who dares interrupt me?!,” he demanded as he spun round on his heels, only for his face to fall when he saw Tony. “Oh,” he said in a small voice. “You... you weren’t meant to see this...” he came back with an annoyed huff, and Tony tried to partition away the devastation in front of him.

“Umm... and what is it that I’m seeing?” Tony asked carefully, his voice calm and soothing as if dealing with an injured animal. With Loki’s rather bizarre habits recently, he wasn’t entirely sure how to deal with the god anymore.

“I was making you breakfast,” Loki muttered, voice low and petulant, like a child trying to justify why he’d gotten milk all over the kitchen floor.

Tony blinked, and then frowned. “You what?”

Loki looked up, his green eyes ablaze with defiance as he put his hands on his hips. “I was trying to make you breakfast, you ungrateful oaf!”

Palms raised in surrender, Tony took a slow step towards Loki, then another, and another, until they were next to each other. Sliding an arm around Loki’s slender waist, Tony pulled the god towards him and, after a moment’s resistance, he felt the other give in and let himself be pulled closer. Tony felt the god huff in annoyance into his shoulder, then relax into him.

“I thought I would be spared this,” Loki muttered into Tony’s shoulder, so muffled that the words were almost lost.

“Spared what?” Tony asked, gently, quite prepared for no answer to be forthcoming. Indeed, there was a long pause before he felt Loki inhale deeply, then start talking without lifting his head.

“Jotuns do not breed prolifically. They - we - live long lives so have no need to constantly bring young into the world, unlike you mortals. The... cycle is around once every seven years,   
but not every frost giant is genetically deemed suitable for breeding, and those of lesser stock find themselves in the position of caregiver in deference to those higher than them. It leads to large family groups, with two birth parents and one or two extra caregivers to ensure maximum survival rates and a slow birth rate.”

Tony didn’t say anything for a moment, just waited for Loki to collect himself before speaking.  
“So you’re saying you want kids?” 

“Did you listen to anything I said?” Loki said with annoyance, his eyes narrowed as he pulled back to scowl at Tony. “Those of lesser stock get biologically reduced to childminders.” He paused for a moment, “Children are far too noisy and time-consuming anyway,” he added with an air of defiance.

“Well, I can’t disagree with that,” Tony said as he stroked the small of Loki’s back in small, soothing circles. “How about a pot plant?”

He felt rather than saw the withering gaze Loki gave him.

“Ok, ok... we can deal with this... How about a pet? We can get a pet! How about a dog?”

Loki looked up at him and sniffed. “Dirty, small-minded creatures that rely too much on their owners. I much prefer cats.”

“Then we’ll get a cat!” Tony said with a grin, and Loki looked at him..

“A cat?” he asked, warily, pressing into Tony’s reassuring hold.

“Yeah, it’d be great. Though you have to clean the litter box. Your responsibility and all...” 

Loki sniffed. “I shall do no such thing. That is a task more suitable to you mortals.”

Tony smiled as the Loki he knew started coming back. “Fine, fine - I guess that’ll be left to me then. Can’t imagine You or Butterfingers being able to do it. And god help us all if Dummy got anywhere near the tray!” He was glad to hear a small snort of amusement from Loki and he smiled as he slipped his arm fully around the god’s waist. “Come on, let’s go back to bed - we can clean this up later. There’s a lot more that we could be doing,” Tony said suggestively as he started to steer them out the kitchen.

“Yes,” Loki said seriously, “we have to decide what cat we want... of course, it has to be black - I don’t want white hairs on my clothing...”

Tony sighed inwardly as they made their way to the bedroom.

...

Three days later and there was a new addition to Stark Tower. It had taken them days to find a cat that Loki wanted, and in the end he had settled for a small, black kitten, the runt of the litter, with a feisty nature and a slightly-bent tail.

“Her name is Gudarr,” Loki declared haughtily. “It means ‘god’s warrior’.”

Tony looked down the the tiny pile of black fur that was currently resting in Loki’s lap, and jumped slightly when one green eye opened followed by a small squeaking sound - all of which was obviously too much effort for the tiny kitten, who then collapsed in a heap again.

“Umm - I don’t think she’s in any state to be a warrior of anyone at the moment...”

Loki looked up at him with narrowed eyes. “She is a brave warrior - already she has survived much,” he said with an air of finality, stroking the small lump of fur almost absentmindedly.

Tony bit back a reply. There were times to talk back and times to just let things slide. This was one of the latter.

“Well, where shall we set up sleeping quarters for our little warrior? She needs somewhere safe,” and somewhere that she won’t get too underfoot, Tony thought to himself. He was already having nightmare visions of tripping over the furball on legs, and he didn’t want to think of the damage it could wreak if it got into his lab.

“She will sleep in our room, of course!” Loki said as he stood up, the pile of fur in one hand still asleep. “I believe everything we ordered the other day has arrived, so I will go and prepare her bed and help her adjust to her new surroundings.” He didn’t wait for a reply before striding out of the room purposefully, tiny kitten held delicately to his chest.

Tony watched the god disappear from the room then sighed audibly. “I’m going to regret this, aren’t I J?”

JARVIS, as always, knew better than to reply.

...

By the third day, Tony was convinced he was actually dying.

“Ahh-choo!” The sneeze almost made him fall over, and he sniffed despondently as he stood in the kitchen and looked at Loki, Gudarr sitting on his shoulder looking innocent. “I think I’m dying.”

Loki rolled his eyes and the cat yawned. “You are not dying, Tony.”

“I am. That... thing is killing me.”

“You’re sneezing a bit. It’s hardly the herald to your impending doom.” Loki reached up to scratch the cat’s neck, and she mewed back happily. “You were the one that suggested this, anyway.”

“Yeah, I know,” Tony muttered, “and I’m already regretting it,”

Loki looked up and narrowed his eyes, and Gudurr did the same. “Are you saying you’re regretting making me happy?” The question was loaded and Tony wasn’t that stupid.

“Of course not! It’s just...” he stopped and pouted a bit. “I feel miserable now. I can’t get near you because of her. I can’t even sleep in the same bed as you anymore!” he whined as he flopped down on a nearby chair before sneezing again and frowned. “Miss you,” he muttered quietly.

“What was that, Tony?” Loki said, a small grin on his face, as Gudurr jumped onto his lap and began pacing round in small circles before collapsing in a heap in the god’s lap.

Tony pouted again. “I said, I miss you!” 

“But I’m right here, Tony!” Loki replied, clearly enjoying the man’s misery. He got no reply but more pouting. “Oh, very well!” He sighed as he closed his eyes. “You are such a drama queen!” 

“I’m a-” Tony started, then stopped suddenly as he felt a cold spread through him, and suddenly he could breathe again. “What?!?” he exclaimed as he jumped up in surprise.

“I got bored of your whining,” Loki said in response.

Tony’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline, then his eyes narrowed. “Do you mean you could have helped me days ago?” he accused with a pointed finger.

Loki just smiled. “I wanted to do a little test, see how much you would put up with for me - although I think in the end it was me seeing how much I could put up with for you,” he said as he rolled his eyes. “But at least now you can hold Gudurr,” and in an instant Loki was in front of Tony, holding the kitten in his outstretched arms.

Hesitating slightly, Tony reached out to pluck the bundle of fur from Loki’s hands. He waited for the inevitable tickle in his nose to herald a sneezing fit, but nothing came. Slowly, with no little trepidation, he brought the kitten close to his chest. She seemed to look at the glow from the arc reactor strangely, then decided it was ok as she snuggled into his shoulder and promptly passed out.

“I think she likes you,” Loki said with a smile.

Tony looked at Loki then down at the tiny kitten, barely bigger than one of his hands, and he smiled. 

“Yeah. I think I like her too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't help it. Sorry. ;-)


End file.
